


Lovecraft

by koyeop



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, witchcraft!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koyeop/pseuds/koyeop
Summary: After an unfortunate drunken night, you, a fortune teller who was cursed from a young age by an unknown witch, breaks your own creed and read your own fate. Seeing nothing but ruin and isolation in the future, you seek out an apothecary named Saeran, who gives you untested potion called Aphrodite’s Blessing, not for free though. In return, he wishes to study and document it’s effects on you. Can his creation not only save you from fate, but also break your longstanding curse?





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t usually care to write multi-chapter fics, but I felt this would be a better format for what I’ve planned out. I greatly appreciate critique, and reading your comments. Let me know what you think!

You could feel each curve of the cobblestone path pressing against the thin sole of your boots. They were worn down, patched to no end, seams parting once again… Not that it really mattered to you. You were destined for a life of solitude, ruin, destruction at your own core. Being a fortune teller, it was your own creed to not read your own fate. You were a medium. A pawn used to relay fate, you weren’t meant to know your own. You never really wanted to anyways, after seeing so many disastrous readings in which the card’s warnings weren’t headed. A few nights ago, in your drunken stupor you thought reading your fate would be a good idea. You were horrifically wrong. 

You hadn’t intended to drink so much rum. The bartender was just so whimsical in the way he mixed his concoctions. The way silver strands jostled as muscular arms shook drinks in the same rhythmic way, every time. Maybe you’d thought that if you ordered enough, you’d catch him skip a beat. Maybe that chiseled face, surely crafted by the gods would take you home and ravage you. You swore you could still taste the spice in the back of your throat when you coughed at the chill in the air. Your esophagus burned when you took a swig from the water jug you carried on your hip. 

All of this could simply be a physical manifestation of your current mental state though. Plagued with anxiety, you proceeded to shove those like you, wandering hopelessly, aside in the crowded streets. You tugged the wool of your navy cloak tighter around your shoulders, hoping to retain some bodily heat. You thumbed at the white edges, lined with constellations. This was the last gift you’d been presented with by your father before you left home for the big city. The cloak was like the summer night sky, at the last moment before shadows filled the sky in its entirety. It was home to you, a comfort item of sorts. You never wished to part from your dear parents, the only people who’d cared for you all these years, but the village was no place for a fortune teller to find a living. You could only tell the same twenty people the same thing the cards and skies told you so many times. Small towns like yours were a place for those strong enough with their craft to practice elemental magic. To freely cause boulders to rise and be flung about with no worry of guards rushing about, offering threats if one persisted. Elemental magic was still seen as a dubious concept, one that only the rich elite would have access to. However, it was becoming more common knowledge that a gifted student of any class could obtain the ability to practice creating breezes with proper guidance. The outskirts of town could be easily accessed, with no need to walk half the day to reach a far off stream to try to cause the water to bubble and boil, harnessing both fire and water spells. You could often find apothecaries wandering in your town, searching for new foliage, inquiring about preservation methods from those most acquainted with living off the land. 

“You there! Prophet!” A ragged voice called from the entrance to his shop. A tailor, by the looks of the sign. “Don’tcha need them raggedy boots patched up? Can’t have someone like yourself lookin’ like yer livin’ off tha streets,” You gazed down at the black suede, knowing fully well they were tattered beyond return. 

“No thank you, I have little coin to spare, and am equipped with a needle and thread myself,” The man did not look like the sort you’d trust to repair anything. He was scarred, war torn, and brash. His red beard was caked with dirt, bits of food clinging to the ends.You didn’t believe such chubby, calloused fingers could even hold a needle. It was more likely he was a thief, pretending he owned the shop as he stood in front of the door, taking payments and items from unsuspecting victims until the merchant came to scurry them away. You did not offer the chance for him to reply, simply carrying on your way. You had business to attend to, after all.

It was by chance that the discarded paper ended up in your path. On that treacherous walk home from the pub, it stood in your path like a beacon. Perhaps this was some deity giving you a second chance with your mistake soon to come.  _ “Lovecraft: Potions and Vulneraries” _ it read in pink lettering. It had been torn at the edges, footprints having left their mark on it, but you still tucked the page in your pocket. Perhaps you knew all along that you’d need it.

The wooden sign creaked in the wind, tugging at its chain links, the peeling paint threatening to join the wind and it’s journeys. Red bricks were chipped, but it certainly had its charm. It was wedged between a bakery and a magical equipment suppliers shop. The  _ thump _ of tomes being tossed on the counter could be heard through a cracked window pane, coins being tossed into palms and the scurry of yet another mage to be purchasing the essentials. Fresh bread could be smelled in the air, sweeping its way across the street. It warmed your bones. You walked up the steps, lightly dusted with snow, its pristine placing showed no signs of anyone visiting within the past hour. You heard a small chime as you pushed the splintered door open. The heavy floral, herbal scent hit you like a wave. Various coloured bottles lined the shelves, dried basil leaves dangling from the ceiling. Wax candles that spilled over, dripping onto the shop counter flickered at the breeze that drifted in along with you. 

“Welcome! What can I help you with?” a voice called out. The man, standing behind the counter fiddling away with the soft petals of a sunflower, turned around. He lowered the burgundy hood on his cloak to reveal a soft, round face, hair as white as the snowflakes flitting about outside, bits of pink clinging to the ends. Perhaps it was some kind of pollen from a flower he utilized? You wondered about how he’d achieved the mix of hair colours, but quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of your head. It wasn’t all that important at the moment. The boy seemed quite young, not much older than yourself, if at all. With his age, he was most likely an apprentice. It was usually men and women in their late teens and older who ran shops, seeing as how the younger generation typically couldn’t afford to start up their own shops. 

“I’m looking for the owner of this shop, would he be around perchance?” You questioned. You were always wary of apprentice apothecaries. They had quite a knack for creating potions that backfired in the form of bodily alterations that can’t be undone, using their craft as a guise to create aphrodisiacs that they’d slip into ladies’ drinks at the pubs, having bottles combust because they couldn’t be bothered to check what fumes would be emitted, and how they’d fill the glass until they burst… 

“That’d be me,” He pointed to himself, looking slightly dejected. “Were you expecting someone else?” 

“I-I’m so sorry!” You blurted. “I’m just used to shop owners being much older, and you look quite young…”

“That’s to be expected,” Placing down the mortar and pestle he’d been using, he walked around the counter, leaning up against the front of it casually. “I...Kind of inherited this place from my teacher, that’s why someone as inexperienced as me is running it,” You could sense that something grave had happened to him by the way the man’s tone dropped.

“Oh… If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to him?” You tried to evade asking him if his teacher had died, point blank. Instead choosing to give him a bone, and let him tell you as much as he wished. It wasn’t exactly polite to be inquiring about such a personal story, but you did wish to know why such a young looking guy was running a shop. 

“He passed away a few years ago. The cause was unknown... “ His mint eyes darted down to floorboards, his foot playing with a loose one that was near ready to pop out. “But in his will, he gave everything he owned to me. Shop included. I just decided to keep carrying on practicing what I’d been taught, so here I am, running my own place,” 

“I’m so sorry… About your loss, I mean,”

“Thank you for your condolences,” He smiled sadly. You figured his teacher must have been dear to him, seeing as how he acted as though he’d passed away a few weeks ago rather than a few years. “But all that aside, what can I help you with today miss?”

“I’ve… Found myself in a bit of a predicament, you see,” Averting your eyes, you took sudden interest in a stray thread on your cloak. It was embarrassing to tell your story, it was foolish that your answer wasn’t as easy as “go out and make friends”. You’d never been able to form close bonds with anyone who wasn’t family. It wasn’t that you were unkind, or deemed a monstrosity by society, but rather… A lack of connection. There was never any sort of  _ click _ that went off when you spoke to people. Everyone always seemed at a distance. Civil to you, but it was like you were a minor character in a book. One who appeared for a page or two to fill up a moment, to hurry along the plot, and then you were abandoned by the writer. You were certain it had to do with the curse your parents whispered about in the night. It was only ever bits and pieces that you heard, but you knew the truth, deep down. Someone, somewhere, had cursed you to never find companionship. Not among friends, not among lovers. You could only wish you knew why or whom. It took an exorbitant amount of time and effort to learn how to curse. Anyone who wished to learn how would’ve required a deep seated motivation to curse someone. You never did let your parents know that you knew about this curse. You didn’t want them to feel sorry for you, so instead, you focused on your studies into divination rather than making friends, quickly being able to accel in your field. Taking on the guise of a cheerful studious girl, you were able to ease their worries, if only a little bit.

“I’m a fortune teller you see, and I accidentally read my own fortune, and my fate… Was not good to say in the least,”

“How do you accidentally read your own fate?” He questioned, confusion laced in his voice. Truthfully, it was an odd thing to say. Reading fortunes was a long, drawn out process, not something done with the flick of the wrist.

“I was a drunken mess, and it’s my personal vow to never tell my own future, but, well… Rum really gets to you, doesn’t it?” His face was skeptical, seeming as though he was analyzing your tale for lies.

“So what about your fate?”

“The cards foretold of a horrid future. One where I am alone for eternity, no companions, no family, no lovers. All that awaits me due to my isolation, is ruin at my own core.” You truthfully wished that this was a jest by the gods, however, cards did not lie. This, you strongly believed, was a warning. “I don’t wish to succumb to a fate like this, so I was wondering if there was perhaps a potion of some sort that could help me?”

“You’re an odd one, you believe in fate, yet you think it can be changed?” You’d piqued his interest. Why would someone who practices divination say the complete opposite of where their beliefs should lie?

“Destiny is not absolute.” You could go on for hours about your thoughts on fate, but you didn’t want to bore him with your long winded explanations. He nodded at this, you weren’t sure if it was of acceptance of your answer, or agreement.

“I might have something, give me a moment,” Turning his back to you, he walked into a nearby backroom, leaving you by yourself while he sifted through glass bottles. Grasping a nearby vulnerary, you examined it’s bring blue contents. An scrawled label read “Bane of Phobetor”. Carefully popping the cork, you sniffed at it’s contents. It smelled of the sickly sweet cough syrup your mother used to give you as a child, the kind that stuck in your throat, and you could taste with every swallow. Just what was this for? How much was it? This boy had a lot to learn about running a shop if he couldn’t even attach price tags and descriptions to the oddly named vials. You shook your head, sending melting snow flying off your cloak.

“Here it is!” The boy emerged with a heart-shaped bottle in hand. It was filled with a bright pink colour. The dim candle light caught on the glass, reflecting it in your direction. “This is one I’ve been working on for some time now, it’s called Aphrodite’s Blessing.” He shook the bottle gently, swirling it’s contents about. “I’m warning you though, it hasn’t been properly tested on anyone yet,” You weren’t sure how to feel, taking an untested potion. By an unexperienced apprentice who had his shop given to him by his deceased teacher, no less. But was this your only hope to save yourself? 

“What’s the intended effect?” You inquired. 

“I designed it to draw love and companionship to the user, a love potion, essentially.”

“So what, I’m supposed to take this and prince charming will pop up out of nowhere and save my pathetic soul for eternity?” As silly as his explanation sounded, you were desperate. You’d already sought counselling, you’d spoken to those in your field about your predicament, and none could offer any help. Would this be powerful enough to combat the curse you were bestowed upon? You’d heard of certain potions being taken daily to combat effects of a curse, but overcoming your own would depend on the unknown strength of the curse, and the apothecary’s potion.

“Not quite,” He laughed. “I created it out of accident. I was originally trying to create something that would bring my long lost twin brother back to my side, but I found the creation seemed to show promise of helping new relationships form well.”

“I thought you said it hadn’t been tested, so how did you come to that conclusion?”

“I tested the original formula on myself, but since then, I’ve done some alterations. I changed the intention to focus on helping the lonely souls of the world rather than trying to bring people back,” 

“I see…” Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to bear any ill will. His aura was not malicious in the slightest. You were at your wits end, and even though you were wary, it didn’t seem like you had much a choice in the matter. You were doomed if you didn’t take it, so might as well try your luck with taking it.

“How much?”

He was a bit taken back, startled that you’d try it. He was expecting a solid no, and for you to carry on your way. 

“Um...Actually, I can give it to you for free, for a favour,” It had to be a hefty kind of favour in return for the cure-all that you were about to receive, you thought.

“What kind of favour?”

“I’d like to study the effects of this on you so I can properly document its properties,” A reasonable request, after all, he said this batch hadn’t been tested. You would help him in his craft, and if this potion worked, you wouldn’t face a future of loneliness. “You’d just need to stop in a few times a week so I can record any changes to you,” This bargain wasn’t sounding too bad at all. And you’d get to see him again, he was kind of cute, you had to admit.

“I’ll do it...” You muttered.

“A-Are you sure? You don’t need to if you don’t want to,” He stumbled over his words, worrying he’d pressured you into making a decision in his favour. As eager as he was, he didn’t wish you to do something you weren’t comfortable with.

“No, this is my only chance at obtaining happiness. I want to try it,”

“Alright.” Placing the vial in your palms, he began to recite a list of instructions. “Ingest this once daily, if you can use a rose quartz spoon that would be best for enhancing the intention. Don’t mix it with other vulneraries, as we don’t know the effects yet. Stop taking it if you feel there’s something wrong, and let me know immediately. I have other potions for healing purposes should something go haywire,” You nodded, trying to mentally jot down the grand list of things to remember. 

“So when would you like me to stop by again?” 

“Maybe in two or three days? That should be enough time for the effects to begin.”

“Alright then, I shall see you soon then, um… What is your name, by the way?” 

“It’s Saeran. Saeran Choi. Yours?” You gave him your name, and smiled as it rolled off his tongue. “Good to meet you miss, well, enjoy the rest of your day,” You waved as you opened the door to the brisk temperatures, braving them once again. You hugged the bottle tightly to your chest as if to protect it from the chill. You raced home, dodging the people scuttling about the streets.

Quickly, you shut the wooden door behind you, locking out the frigid cold. You placed Aphrodite’s Blessing on your nightstand, watching as condensation formed on the outside. A gentle finger swiping at the droplets, as if brushing away its tears. You finally,  _ finally  _ had some hope to save yourself. Far too long had you lived a lonely life, only thankful that the curse was not strong enough to shake the bonds you held with your parents. If the curse couldn’t totally isolate you, that meant this potion might be strong enough to overcome it. Maybe you’d find comfort in the arms of the bartender, perhaps that sweet lady with the glasses at the bank would look your way more than once, who knew what could be around the corner if this worked? 

You began sifting through a drawer to find that rose quartz spoon you knew you had. It was quite common to have a few crystal utensils these days, they were useful for things such as enchantments and basic magic practice of any type. You thought it was wonderful that the common folk had learned enchantments, and that they’d become widely known to all. It was one of the simplest forms of witchcraft, and finally it was being taught to those who weren’t among the elite.

“Ah, there it is,” You tugged it from underneath an old altar cloth. Taking it to your sink, you quickly rinsed it of any dust. 

The cork made a  _ pop _ as you opened it. The smell of the concoction was sickly sweet, an overwhelming floral scent. You could smell the rosehip, the violet, the basil, all his ingredients mixing together. Tentatively, you poured a small amount into the spoon. It had the viscosity of a light syrup, but didn’t seem to be sticky. It was rather oily, as your rubbed a small amount between your thumb and index finger. You gulped down the spoonful, not trying to savour it’s taste. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but you weren’t a fan of barely flavoured cheap bubblegum. You weren’t sure if the slightly buttery taste was from a pollen, or if it was added to make the potion more bearable to drink, but nonetheless, you appreciated that Saeran had tried to add some more favourable flavours to it.

You sat, as if waiting for some form of instantaneous change. In the back of your mind however, you knew change would take it’s time, and all you had to do was go about your life and let Saeran record any changes. You did admit though, you felt a little warmer inside. Was it the excitement? The fear of the unknown? It was hard to say.

After placing your cards and gems on the windowsill to charge under the moonlight, you tucked yourself underneath the heavy quilt, eager to wake tomorrow and begin witnessing the change to come.

 

_ “Dear child, you know this won’t work,” _ Your head turned abruptly in the direction of the voice.  _ “I am darkness itself, why do you think his potions will cure you?” _

“Who are you?” You called out. You could only see a silhouette, a dark, toxic aura emanating from the person.

_ “Darkness, did I not already state that? But you, oh, such a sweet, foolish child of mine… You’ll soon see why your fate was such. The tower is not always such a bad card to pull.” _

“Reveal yourself! What do you know about me?” You screamed, too afraid to take a step towards the figure. Why did they know your fate, and how did they know one of the cards you pulled? 

_ “Why would I do that? My fun would end all too soon. I’ll enjoy seeing you put together these pieces my silly child,” _

“What are you talking about?”

_ “Me. You. The apothecaries. We’re all connected, you’ll see. And you, you’ll be my finest child yet. You’ll see. Good luck out there, darling,”  _ The figure offered you no chance to respond, to inquire any more. Waving a bleak hand, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, sunlight pouring through your window.

You grabbed the notebook sitting beside you, scribbling down anything you could remember from your dream.  _ Hand, something about Saeran, total darkness, a child….  _ Whatever this was, you’re sure it had a deeper meaning. Dreams often could be used in divination, but this… Was so vivid. Could it be a side effect of Aphrodite’s Blessing? Is there someone trying to tell you something? Your subconscious? Only time and a consultation with your local potions dealer could tell. You placed the pen down, feeling the dream fading away from your memories, your consciousness becoming more aware of reality. You tried to forget the feeling of panic coursing through you, that the reasoning for became less and less clear as you woke. It was just a dream, right?

Well, it was time for another dose of the potion anyways.


	2. Part Two

No matter how many times Saeran rolled over, tugged the sheets above his head, and squeezed his eyes shut, the banging on the door didn’t cease. And it would’ve been a lovely morning too, with the way the sun was shining outside, and how the birds were singing their merry tune. That stupid lady just had to go and ruin his mood with her hollering at this ungodly time in the morning.   
Running his fingers through the tufts of bedhead, he tried to smooth it out, make himself look presentable in some way before he greeted the irate woman screaming outside his door. He wasn’t in much of a rush, after all. Secretly he hoped that if he took long enough she’d up and leave, but considering the fact that her screeching had been going on for the better part of half an hour… Well, if she was going to leave she likely would’ve turned tail and left already. The walk downstairs seemed longer than usual, but perhaps it was just him dreading what awaited him on the other side of the door. Sighing, he reached for the door. This lady, and all the others like hers’ rapping at the door was likely why it was so rife with splinters.  
“Do you realize how long I’ve been standing here?” The middle aged woman yelled as soon as the doorknob turned. Saeran wondered if the deep wrinkles on her face were caused by the excessive use of expression by her. The display she wore was far too over dramatic to be natural. Was that truly how she looked, or was she exaggerating on purpose? Her eyebrows pinched together, corners of her mouth downturned, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets...You’d think she was auditioning for the part of evil witch in the upcoming play, not harassing a shop keep before most of the town had woken.  
“Long enough to manage to wake me up,” With his long nights of mixing different compositions, reading endless page after page on herbs and their uses, and downing blue vulneraries trying to see which batch let him rest more peacefully, he tended to sleep in later, and deeper than most people. Somehow, sleeping until the afternoon did nothing to help the purple bags under his eyes that never seemed to fade.  
“Whatever! Your useless potion did nothing for me!”  
“Oh? And which one are you talking about?” Saeran folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. It was freezing outdoors and he was in nothing but a thin pair of pajamas, but it was instinct to look cool and nonchalant to one up her. He knew exactly which item she had purchased too, he remembered quite well how her musky lingering perfume infested his shop a week ago, how she demanded he craft something custom for her needs rather than buying what was on the shelf, trying to bargain with him as if she couldn’t pay the price despite the gaudy jewel encrusted necklace covering the majority of her chest… This woman had already used up all his patience, and he was going to do everything he could to piss her off.  
“Your anti-aging one!”  
“Do you mean Hebe’s Nectar?”  
“I don’t know! I didn’t read the label!” She tossed her hands in the air, continuing her dramatic display.   
“Well, considering it’s the only anti-aging thing I sell, we’ll go with it. How are you using it?” Saeran had confidence in his works. Everything was tested on either him or another person, if there weren’t good results, it didn’t go on the shelf. Anything on the shelf was either his personal creation, or something passed down to him from Jihyun. He was not too fond of the implication that his potions were ineffective.  
“What do you mean how am I using it? I take a spoon everyday like any other potion!” Silently, he prayed this woman would never reproduce, no child deserved to inherit a brain as small as hers. Their upbringing would be hell too, gods save any kids she may already have.  
“Well ma’am, if you read the label, you’d know it’s supposed to be added to bathwater once a week, not ingested,” Saeran couldn’t believe this, just how stupid did she have to be to not read a label and then come screaming at the seller? He may not put price tags on products out of laziness, but he made sure the instructions and ingredients list was attached. Does everyone who owns a shop have to deal with people like this? Did his late teacher have to deal with this?  
“W-Well you should have told me that when I bought it!”  
“I tell every customer to read the label, whether you do or not, is not my problem,” The lady was flabbergasted, taken aback by his words. Her long, cracking nails dug into her balled up fists in an attempt to contain her anger.   
“Well, am I going to get sick now? From drinking this stupid thing?”  
“Likely not if you haven’t already, but maybe since you’ve been ingesting it, it’ll help with your ugly personality,”  
“Excuse me? Are you implying something here boy?” She accentuated the final word, as if it were some insult to call him a child. He knew he was too young to be running a shop, and to be an apothecary. It wasn’t slander, it was a mere fact. He refused to let this woman use his age as a tool to demean him.  
“Yes, now please leave, I’d like to get some sleep,” Saeran slammed the door in her face, far more pissed off than he should’ve been. It was people like her that made him question why he even ran a shop in the first place. He was kind enough to share his practice with the townsfolk and this is how they treated him? Abhorrent.  
Judging from the position of the sun, it was too late to go back to bed. If he wanted to open up Lovecraft at a respectable time for once, he was better off just getting ready for the day. Sitting down at his desk, he opened the leather bound journal to an aged page. It was the last ingredient list he’d used for creating Aphrodite’s Blessing. Tea stains dotted the scribbled writing. All the markings were remnants of long past nights where Saeran was so sleep deprived his hands shook as he reached for yet another cup. Picking up the quill nearby, he began to jot down notes about his test subject. Your name, gender, age, basic physical traits… There was quite a bit of necessary information missing, however. Saeran made a mental note to ask you about your past experiences with potions, allergies and whatnot the next time you met. All factors in this test were equally important, from which kind of rose petals used, to your height. It was always unknown what results could turn up, so it was best to keep notes of absolutely everything to learn the properties of different ingredients, and their effects on certain people.  
He moved to close the journal as he got up from his desk, but a brush of his hand sent it tumbling to the floor by accident. A detailed pencil drawing that had previously been tucked in between pages slid out. Carefully picking up the print, Saeran’s eyes took in every aspect. The tiny indents of the man’s pores, the cracks in his lips, and the shimmer in his eye.  
It was of Jihyun, his former teacher. Saeran’s eyes began to well with tears as Jihyun’s charcoal mouth smiled onwards, as if trying to tell him not to cry, to smile instead. It was just like Jihyun, to want to be remembered as smiling. The portrait was the only picture he had to remember his face by. All the memories seemed to come rushing back to him whenever he looked upon the drawing, no matter how many times he told himself he was over his death. That was why it was tucked away, so he didn’t have to look at it. It was expected for him to still be upset though, Jihyun essentially raised him after all.  
Saeran’s mother passed away when he was 8. It never really upset him though. He was more traumatized by the way she treated him than her death. She was a horrid lady, not unlike the one who had just visited to do nothing but complain and blame him for her woes. Bruises and cuts were no stranger to him. She had driven his twin brother to run from her when he was very young. He hardly remembered him anymore, his brother left early on in his life, leaving him behind to bear her abuse. It was by some god’s grace she was always too drunk to notice him sneaking out the window, running to the nearest potion shop, which just so happened to be Lovecraft. He remembered how he cried and begged for help, how much pain he was in. It felt like someone had placed needles under his wounds, the side of his face felt swollen, every movement put him in agony. Jihyun had nearly burst into tears himself at the sight of the small boy. What kind of monster could do that to a child? Jihyun began teaching him how to make his own salves and basic balms to treat his injuries when he couldn’t make it to the shop, whether it be because she had shackled him to the bed, or he was too weak and injured to move. After that, Saeran simply wanted to know more about what kinds of things apothecaries could create. He was enamoured by the fact that a mixture of common items could create something that could help people. He wanted to end his own pain, and perhaps, do something for his mother. Saeran wondered if she was in pain because of how often she cried into whisky glasses. Jihyun would only smile whenever Saeran would tell him about his plan to create _“a really strong potion that will stop mother from hurting,”_ The child thought that maybe, just maybe, if she wasn’t in pain, she wouldn’t create pain for him either.  
It was a serene night when his mother passed, everything was quiet for once. No screaming, no choked sobs, no broken glasses. Saeran recalled how he she didn’t move, how she didn’t snore or bolt out of her rocker to yell when he made the smallest of noises like she usually did. He poked his head out of his room, inhaling the overwhelming scent of alcohol. Half empty bottles were spilled everywhere, smashed glass littered the floor. Carefully, he had poked at her arm, just to see if she’d move. He shook her arm, nothing but a flop of her head. He reached his small hand up to her face, striking her as she had done to him countless times. No movement, no reaction. Saeran bolted out of the front door, running into the streets teary eyed. Rather than running to inform a town guard, he ran to Jihyun, frightened at his first hands on experience with death. The only guardian he had, even if she was a poor one, was gone. Jihyun cradled small boy in his arms, and cried with him. Saeran never understood why Jihyun was crying with him. He still didn’t know why, even though now he was older and wiser. From that point on, Saeran moved in with the apothecary, and learned to craft potions from him. Life seemed the brightest when he was with him. Jihyun was his sun, and since his departure from the world, Saeran had decided to carry on that feeling of warmth he was given, passing the same care to others.  
Living with him meant sleeping in bed that creaked in the night as he rolled around, trying to escape the nightmares that haunted him, but that was fine. It was better than the sheetless mattress, or the cold splintered floors he was used to. In fact, having a bed with pillows was quite the luxury to him. At least he had somewhere comfortable to cry as he tried to sort out his feelings, tried to remember that he was no longer a small child who could only rely on the woman who’d strike him with broken bottles and forget to feed him for days on end. He was no longer trapped physically by her, but her presence, the damage she caused, lived on and encased him.  
Jihyun had begun developing a relief for his nightmares before he passed. It typically took several years to perfect a potion, and sadly, he had passed before he was able to complete his work. Creating the elixir was his way of apologizing to Saeran, for not being able to remove him from his mother sooner. For letting this continue on rather than alerting the authorities. The very least he could do was to ease his nightmares. As Saeran ran his fingers over the edge of the drawing he still held, he wondered why Jihyun did what he did. He had faith in his choices, he was always a wise and calm man, but he just wish he got to know why he made his decisions. What did he foresee with his actions? What was he trying to avoid? Would the authorities have done nothing to save him from his mother? Why didn’t Jihyun act sooner? When Saeran took up his work on Bane of Phobetor, the elixir he had been working on until his death, along with running Lovecraft, he could only hope that by continuing Jihyun’s work, he could find the answers he was looking for.   
Wiping stray tears from his eyes, Saeran tucked the picture back in the pages of his notebook. There wasn’t time to dwell any longer, he had a shop to open.

You found yourself staring at your own reflection at lot longer than usual of late. The eagerness to see any signs of change overwhelmed you, the thought occupied every hour of every day. You were paranoid about every minor thing, taking note of every twitch, your skin seeming to be a hue too pale or too dark, was your hair suddenly longer? Why were you more tired than usual? You had reason to be paranoid though, you were a test subject after all. You kept hoping that perhaps someone would bump into you on the streets, someone who’d genuinely be intrigued by you, someone who wanted to get to know you. However, nothing so exciting had happened yet.  
You tugged the wide brimmed witch’s cap down, trying to shield yourself from frigid winds as you braved the walk to Lovecraft once again. A few days had passed, and like you promised, you’d meet up with him so he could take note of the effects. You weren’t sure there would be anything for him to write down though, but perhaps an apothecary would know better what to look for than you.   
The bell chimed as you burst through the door, quickly shutting it to prevent any snow from getting in to warp his floorboards more than they already were.   
“Ah, there you are,” Saeran poked his head out from behind a shelf filled with lilac coloured potions. They were haphazardly placed, far too many bottles crammed onto the weakening shelf. a few bottles threatening to dive off the edge, some knocked onto their sides. “I was wondering when you’d stop by,” He stood up, brushing the dust and dirt off his pants. You noticed the book he held in hand, some sort of encyclopedia perhaps? You couldn’t read the title very well from this angle and distance, but it was thick with pages surely full of knowledge, gold foiled leaves decorating the burgundy cover.  
“Were you in the middle of something? I could stop by later if that’s better for you,” You didn’t want to interrupt him, and you silently needed assurance that this was a good time to drop by. It was roughly early afternoon, judging by the position of the sun hanging high in the sky, but you’d heard rumours of Lovecraft opening quite late due to the shopkeeper's sleeping habits.  
“Oh no, I was just doing a little research on herbs. Come, have a seat,” He motioned to the stool by the counter. You took up his offer, wanting to rest your feet after the small journey you made to get here. It wasn’t a long walk to get to the shop, but the cobblestone roads combined with thinning soles on your boots didn’t allow you to trek with much comfort. “How have you been, noticed anything different?” His eyes eagerly looked you over, searching for any signs of physical change.  
“I’ve been… the usual, I suppose,” You sighed.  
“You sound a bit down,” You were caught off guard by his insight. Most people simply asked how you’d been as a pleasantry, they didn’t genuinely care how you were doing. That’s how life always was for you after all. The curse you were burdened with hung on your shoulders, as if it was scaring off anyone who perhaps wanted to ask how you really feeling that day. Someone who wanted to say more than “That’s awful,” when you explained the worst day of your life to them. Anyone who offered consolation, just… someone who listened.  
“I… I’m just worried that it feels like nothing is happening,” You confessed.   
“Don’t worry so much, sometimes it takes longer for certain potions to begin to take effect. And other times, the differences are so minute that you don’t even notice them,” He smiled warmly, trying reassuring you that things would be alright.   
“But I’m betting everything on the hope that this concoction of yours works,” You were nervous, this was your future after all.  
“I guess I’ve got high expectations to live up to,” He laughed. You appreciated how upbeat he was despite the situation you were in, he was much like a beacon in your darkest hour.   
“But I suppose you’re right, I shouldn’t be worrying so much,”  
“Here, let’s take a look and see if there’s any changes from my perspective,” Gently, he grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side. “Hm, Your cheeks look a bit pinker than last time…” You were taken back by his abruptness. Most strangers didn’t just grab someone’s face like that, and he was getting awfully close to you. Did he just lack decorum? Did he not understand social cues?   
“I-I’m just cold, it’s freezing outside,”   
“Is it? I haven’t really left the shop today,” Saeran tried to not remember how the winds whipped at his flesh while he stood in the doorway earlier in the day. Looking smug definitely had it’s cons. It’d be better for him to just forget the woman from this morning, she wasn’t worth his anger anyways. He turned your head to the other side, examining and jotting down the hue of your skin. Touching the back of his hand to your cheek, he noted how warm they were too.  
“Didn’t you have to leave your house to get to the shop?” Did this guy honestly not leave his shop? If so, how did he manage to earn a reputation for opening late when he was always here?   
“No, I sleep here. My room is upstairs,” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve lived here ever since my teacher took me in, and I don’t think I’d have it any other way,”  
“Isn’t this place a little too worn down for you to live in?” You went from thinking this guy was a weirdo to being concerned for his well being. The winter months were rather cold here, and he was sleeping in a barely insulated shop?  
“I think it being worn down is what gives it its charm, don’t you think?” He ran his hands through your hair, examining for any colour changes in the strands. The gesture was a little odd but… Intimate, almost. It felt so relaxing, soothing. Subconsciously, you leaned into Saeran’s touch. You saw the smirk catch on his lips for the briefest of moments. “Does that feel nice?” He asked as he repeated the motion, slower this time. You weren’t sure at this point if he was still examining you or if he was toying with you.  
“Ah, sorry.” You jerked upright, only now realizing your actions. “It’s just… No one ever did that and I...Uh...Yeah… It does feel quite nice. Is that a side effect of the potion?”   
“Most people enjoy this, so I’m gonna go with no,” You felt your heart sink that no changes had been noted yet. He continued to tug gently at your roots, eyeing your expression.   
“Well, physically, there’s not much change aside from your face being redder than usual. Emotionally, you seem slightly less reserved, but to be fair you did just meet me,”   
Saeran wondered why you were so alone, and why your cards gave you such a grim reading. It’s not like you weren’t pretty, nor did you have a bad personality from what he knew about you so far. Just what was keeping people from you? And why did you being alone cause such a ruinous future? Was your problem stemming from yourself as a person, or was there a third party interfering? He didn’t believe in divination being absolute, other forms of magic such as potion, spells, curses, and enchantments could always change the future. But why were things as they were for you? It felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle that could help him resolve your problem. There were so many questions he was trying to resolve, and you’d thrown a new quiz at him. Of course, he wanted to refine Aphrodite’s Blessing first, but he did want to assist you as well. That’s why he continued to run Jihyun’s place after all, because he wanted to help people like him, like Jihyun had done for him.  
“I think I would like to try something with you,” Your head perked up, nervous at what he was about to suggest. “I’d like to go to the market with you, I want to see how you react with other people, and how they react to you,”  
“Right now?”   
“No no, maybe tomorrow if you’re free?” He offered. “I think I might get some better insight to how to potion is affecting you if I’m able to observe interactions with people other than myself,” He did have a point, you hadn’t really done much socializing the past few days aside from the odd reading here and there. You joked about a prince charming popping up out of nowhere when he proposed the idea of taking Aphrodite’s Blessing, but you hadn’t been acting on your own and yet you were still expecting results.   
“That sounds like a good idea, but don’t you have to watch your shop?”  
“I own it, I can close whenever I like. I’m not going to miss much business anyways,” Customers were few these days, and he wasn’t located in a high end of the city. The district was filled with commoners, all trying to sell their own craft to each other when no one had any money to spare. Plenty of product, yet no demand. Capitalism at its finest.  
“What time did you want to meet up?”   
“Noon perhaps? That’s when the market is at its busiest. The more people the better,” Saeran was scribbling away unknown notes in the journal he had laid on the counter. You were inclined to ask just what he was writing, but refrained. What if he thought you were being too nosy? Perhaps there were things you didn’t want to know.  
“Sounds good to me, I’ll see you then, I suppose?” You reached for the door.  
“Yep, I’ll see you tomorrow,” With a wave of his hand, you were off, braving the chill yet again.   
Saeran buried his face in his palms and breathed deeply. He picked up the qull once again and began to jot more notes down.

  * _Noticeable difference in skin hue_
  * _Skin warmer than average body temperature_
  * _Cute expression when hair is played with_
  * _No change in hair colour_
  * _Not much of an emotional/behavioural change, noted changes could be due to her warming up to me_
  * _Avoids eye contact_



Glancing at his notes one last time, he realized something.  
He forgot to ask about her allergies again.


	3. Part Three

You were a little thankful that Saeran had decided to meet up with you at your home rather than forcing you to walk to his shop two days in a row. The walk wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but the days were getting shorter and colder. Thank the heavens that the flannel cloak you always wore was so warm even after all these years. If it wasn’t for the sweet heat it provided, you’d surely have frozen to death long ago. It was always in the back of your mind to purchase new boots, warmer scarves, and those gorgeous knitted mittens with the pearls sewn into the tops resembling snowflakes, but finances were tight. The overlooming thought of possibly not having money to buy food for tomorrow made you think twice about what was essential. More than often a meal and rent won over new clothing, even though it was dearly needed.

The town square’s market wasn’t too far from your street. It was quite handy, seeing as how you rarely had to travel far for anything you required. Not to mention on slower days when there were fewer vendors, you were able to set up a small table to sell readings. Fortunes, unveiling the true intentions of a relative, finding out if someone’s love was unrequited or not… Whatever anyone would request. The competitive nature of the market meant early mornings and long days to allocate a spot. It was far too troublesome, especially for a plain diviner like you who was commonly overlooked in favour of roasted sweet potatoes and fresh, bloody cuts of butchered cattle. Even if you were only able to get ten or fifteen customers every few days, the pocket change was still money in the end. It felt heavy in your pockets, you could feel the weight of each silver coin, and you treasured them as if they were your lifeline.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You trodded down the creaky steps, opening the door as little as possible. It’d be nice to keep some of the heat inside the stone walls. The metallic handle was cool to the touch. An igloo might have better insulation than this atrocious excuse for a home. It took an eternity for the warmth of the fireplace to reach the nooks and crannies of your small home, and you weren’t about to undo what took about three hours this morning.

“Ready to go?” Saeran tilted his head slightly as he asked. He peeked through the crack in the door, trying to survey your surroundings. The mess of cards and small jewels strewn across a nearby side table caught his eye. He never took much interest in divination, but he did find the idea of refreshing and “charging” divination tools with crystals quite interesting. It was well known that crystals were used in multiple crafts, from alchemy, to enhancing illusion and restoration spells, to simple blessings. Saeran himself used various pestles and spoons carved from crystals when creating his concoctions. He silently reminded himself to ask you about what properties you noticed from crystals and gems later. Perhaps there was something he could learn from a diviner. Saeran was eager to find out what knowledge he couldn’t learn from books and scrolls.

“Uh, yeah. Just let me grab my cape,” Quickly scurrying back up the stairs, you wrapped the trusty navy blue cloak around you, and tugged on the pointed hat, praying this much would keep you warm today. Perhaps you’d be able to haggle a deal on a pair of gloves while you were there. The market was held outdoors until the snow and chill became too much, then it would move to within one of the town halls. As much as most vendors preferred to be indoors, there was little space in the halls. Fewer people could get into it, and less product would be brought due to space confinements. The air would fill with the mixed scents of oils, herbs, meats, and wines. Which did not mix well at all. The scent was putrid at best. Often driving customers to leave for specialty shops that had concrete locations, if not just for breathable air.

Saeran noticed how your shivering wrists tugged at the neck of your cape, trying to wrap it tighter, closer. Anything to keep warm. Your cheeks were growing deeper in colour by the second. Each time the wind whipped at your skin it felt like an icy blade that slashed your skin.

“Are you sure you’ll be warm enough with just that on? You look kinda cold,”

“O-Oh, um… Yeah. I’ll be fine,” You tried to hide the fact that you were, and always had been, freezing. You didn’t want to appear as though you were scraping coins together to buy loaves of bread, even if that is what you did on a day-to-day basis. You had to admit, it was nice to hear someone concerned for your well being. Regardless, you still didn’t want to become a bother, especially to someone who was already helping you so much.

“You’re not a very convincing liar,” His eyes narrowed in your direction. You remained silent at his comment. Before you knew it, Saeran was removing the burgundy wool scarf he’d been wearing and wrapped it around your neck, tying it in the back so the length draped down your back. You stood still, unsure of what to do. Why was he giving you his scarf? Wouldn’t that mean he would freeze instead of you? Perhaps you just weren’t used to this kind of selfless behaviour. “That should keep you a little warmer. I can’t document any physical effects the potion may be having on you if you’re a icicle. Changes the environmental factors and all that… Y’know?” 

“Ah, right… Thank you,” You tried to hide your now warm cheeks in the woven wool. It was soft, and smelled faintly of ginger and cinnamon. You wondered what item he’d been working on that used those two together. What properties did they have again…? Remembering herbs and their benefits wasn’t something you were skilled at. Too many plants, too many names, too many similar ones. It was amazing how Saeran knew so many off the top of his head.

"Oh, I've been forgetting to ask you, but do you have any allergies perchance?" Saeran’s question pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him, trying to figure out his expression. Was he concerned for you? Was this a sign of the potion working it’s magic?

"No. Or at least no allergies that I'm aware of,"

"Well, that's good then, means we don't need to worry about any ingredients causing a reaction. Or at least they shouldn't." You felt a little disheartened at his reply. He was just asking for scientific purposes… Not personal intrigue. You should’ve expected that much.

Saeran had confidence in his ability to concoct potions, but he was always wary about his ingredients. He preferred to stick to more natural, herbal materials, but regrettably this caused severe reactions for many. His ingredients were always haphazardly strewn on a paper tag attached to the bottle for this reason. There wasn’t a more ghastly feeling in the world for him than harming someone when he had the intention to help. These days there were more and more mythical ingredients finding their way into alchemy and potion-crafting, and while they were effective, they were extremely difficult to work with without accidentally blowing oneself up. 

The path to the market was quite busy today. More people were bustling about than usual, which was odd considering the frigid cold. The two of you remained silent while you trekked there. You’d attempted small talk, but neither of you managed to keep the conversation going. It wasn’t like you two knew each other all that well anyways. You’d only met twice. 

Eventually the stalls and booths came into view. The frozen breaths of customers conglomerated into a haze that lingered over the town square. Several small fires were set up in their bleak gothic cages, the open top allowing people to gather for brief reprieve of the chill. You noticed a mother tug her small child close to the fire, and the two of them stretched out their mittened hands. 

“Be careful not to get too close, okay sweetheart?” The mother crooned. She reached down to adjust the hood over the child’s head, making sure her ears were fully covered. 

“Okay mama!”

You smiled at the warm-hearted display, it reminding you of your own parents. You really did miss their warm touch, the simple pleasantries, and their love for you. Your heart ached at the reminder that you had no one in the world except them, and they were so far away… It was lonely, living like this. But you were happy to have the apothecary who was willing to help you with your curse at least.

“Saeran, are you close with your parents?” You questioned after you observed him watching the mother and child too. It was a conversation starter at least. The silence between you two for the last twenty minutes was becoming irritating.

“Mm, no. I was orphaned at young age, and then my teacher Jihyun took me in,” Saeran’s eyes grew cold at your question. He gazed at your face, looking for signs of something to distrust in. A quirk of the mouth, a specific look in the eye…. But he found nothing of that sort. He was always on the defensive about his childhood. It wasn’t exactly something he really cared to talk about. Who’d want to recall being abused and abandoned by your family? 

“O-Oh… I’m sorry to hear that, you must’ve had a rough childhood,” You looked down at your tattered boots, not expecting such a sad response.

“It was only rough before Jihyun came into my life. He was my sunshine, and he provided for me well,” He tried to lift the mood, smiling at you. Although the words were bittersweet to him, he knew they’d come off as a lot more positive to you. You didn’t carry the feelings for Jihyun that he did, and your ignorance was bliss to him.

“Well… At least things have been better since then. He must’ve been an amazing person,” Saeran looked up at the sky, watching how the sunlight slipped through the clouds above.

“He was the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I’ve got nothing but respect for him to the end of time,”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, for your first test, I want you to try flirting with a shopkeep,”

“You want me to  _ what? _ ” You were taken aback by his statement. You’d never flirted with anyone in your life, nor been flirted with. Where do you even begin? How do you flirt with someone without making a fool of yourself, or was that the point? To be so much of a fool that people find it endearing?

“It’s nothing crazy, just compliment them a little bit. If you could do it with a man and a woman that would be great, I’d like to see the effects on both genders,” Saeran had begun writing notes within a pocket-sized journal. How could he talk so nonchalantly about this? What was he even writing about already?

“I...I really don’t know to do such a thing,” 

“It’s easy, I told you. Just say they have nice eyes or something,” He waved you off in the direction of the busy aisle. You realized quickly you’d have to swallow your pride and get this over and done with if you wanted to leave today. If you refused he’d probably just insitigate a situation himself, and you preferred to not have him take control of whatever awkward conversation that was about to ensue.

You slowly approached the stall selling children’s toys. Wooden tops and colourful, plush animals with buttons sewn on for eyes adorned the wooden counter. 

“Are you looking for something for a younger sibling, or are you just indulging yourself?” The boy behind the counter with bright blue eyes and even brighter flax coloured hair perked up as he saw you grasp at the ear of a bunny. 

“Um, I...Uh, I’m just looking for now!” You blurted out, unsure of what to say. He was kinda cute, you had to admit. Perhaps you should’ve picked a place with someone less attractive working, it might’ve been easier to flirt with someone you had no interest in.

“No worries, just let me know if you need help,” He flashed a smile that would put the sun to shame before turning to attend to another customer. 

Mentally, you tried to calm yourself.  _ There was nothing to be worked up over. Just say he has pretty eyes like Saeran told you to and get out of here. _ You glanced in Saeran’s direction to see him with a notepad in hand, watching your interaction intently. He smirked and gave you a thumbs up, as if encouraging you to keep going. The smug look on his face made you uneasy, as if he was doing this just to watch you squirm. Regardless, you nodded and smiled weakly. There was no point in trying to back out now. You’d created a mutually beneficial deal, and you weren’t one to go back on your word.

“Um, excuse me!” You waved the boy over. 

“Is there something I can do for you?”

“I...Uh,” You could feel your heart stop, anxiety washing over you. You stuttered and fumbled over your words as you tried to spit them out. Get the horrid taste of false flattery off your tongue.  “I just wanted to tell you that your eyes were quite lovely…” You averted your gaze, not really wanting to see whatever reaction you’d get. You could feel the warmth on your face spread to your eyes, ears, and nose. This was utterly humiliating in more ways than one.

“O-Oh, uh, thank you very much! But I have a lovely girlfriend…” The boy trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just thought you should know, spreading the kindness and all…” You laughed half-heartedly trying to improvise a cover up. He’d obviously seen through your cheap lie, but neither of you commented on the elephant in the room. The boy nodded and resumed speaking with other customers, and you took the opportunity to flee the booth as quickly as possible.

“Good job  _ spreading the kindness _ ,” Saeran laughed at your obvious discomfort.

“Shut up, you made me do it, and I did it. Is that enough information for you, can we leave now before I embarrass myself further?”

“Mm, not quite enough. Did you ever receive a similar reaction prior to taking Aphrodite’s Blessing?”

“I’ve never tried to flirt with anyone before, so I can’t say,”

“What about just regular compliments? Like telling the tax collector you like her blouse in hopes she forgets what she was there for in the first place and leaves,”

“No, usually when I give out compliments, I’m ignored outright, or all I get is a smile. It’s always been like I was a ghost,”

“Well, being acknowledged then is a good sign. It means something is working at least. Even if it’s only bringing you back from a different plane of existence,”

“Hey, I’m not dead, that much I’m certain of,”

“Are you sure you’re not what’s been causing my floors to creak at night?”

“If you don’t shut your mouth I will ensure I haunt you in my afterlife,” You huffed at his jest, before turning your back and moving towards the street. Saeran would catch up anyways. 

A rough hand jerked you to the side. Your heart jump into your throat. Caught off guard, you let out a yelp.

“Naw, naw, pretty girls like you roamin’ the market? Does’at mean yer fer sale too?” A massive man whose size was at least double your own had your arm gripped like a vice. His face was heavily scarred, and the eyepatch covering his right eye looked as though it hadn’t seen a bucket of soap and water for months with all the grime caking in the seams. 

“Let go of me,” You lowered your voice, narrowed your eyes. You made him know you were not one to be toyed with. You were prepared make more than a fuss if he tried to haul you off, and perhaps he’d lose the other eye while he was at it. Even if none of that was true, you’d embody it to intimidate him. Stand your ground no matter what. Mother had always taught you how to deal with men like this, though you’d never needed to use her teachings until now. 

“Feisty aren’t ya? Ahehe, that’s how I always liked ‘em,” His booming guffaw attracted the attention of passerbys, but none stopped to help. Not that you blamed them, the behemoth before you looked as though he could crush someone under his thumb. It was doubtful anyone wanted to interfere and risk having their head smashed into a cart of day old halibut. 

“Let me go. Now,” You tried to pry your arm from him, but his fat and calloused fingers easily overpowered the strength of your entire upper arm.

“Awww, ye don’t wanna come care for me a lil? Yer a fortune teller right? Tell ya what, shuffle them fancy cards of yer’s and tell me what a guys gotta do to get a sweet lil’ lady like ya to snuggle up to ‘im? If ya do, I’ll go easy on ya,”

“You’ll let me go this instant before I personally behead you myself,”

“Slingin’ threats now huh? I’m sure ye won’t be runnin’ that mouth for much longer,” The man began hauling you to a nearby alley, it’s end unseen. It was shrouded in shadows, and you didn’t want to know what kinds of people, what horrors where tucked away in darkness. Your fist beat against his arm frantically, doing no damage much to your avail. Kicking proved to be pointless. At the brisk pace he was dragging you, you were forced to walk or risk having him drag your knees along the grit and cobblestone.  _ There’s how many people here… And not a single person is willing to help… _ You thought to yourself.  _ This city is despicable. I’m going to be hauled off to god knows where, possibly never see the light of day again, they would rather go about their own business, knowing they could’ve done something. I hope these bastards sleep soundly at night. Enjoy looking at your wretched face in the mirror. _

You were suddenly wrenched back with great force, you felt your back collide into someone’s body, but they didn’t falter at the impact. The grip on your arm was a little painful, but nothing compared to how roughly the brute had been handling you. The hand moved from your bicep to your wrist, hurriedly dragging you along with them as the two of you fled, running straight for the crowd.

“C’mon, neither of us can take him here, so we need to move fast,” Saeran had thrown his hood up in effort to disguise himself amongst the throng of people. The two of you ran directly into circles of people, avoiding the man screaming profanities at the two of you and attempting to find you two. This tactic earned you some sighs and glares, but it was certainly better than being caught up to.

“Who th’ fuck d’ya think y’ar!? I’ll peel yer flesh from yer bones and sell ya t’ th’ merc’s!” You were thankful that his overwhelming size slowed him down, speed was on your side, that was for sure. His bellowing voice was becoming fainter quickly. 

“We need to leave before him or one of his accomplices finds us, put the hood on your cape up and carry your hat so we aren’t spotted,” You nodded and followed Saeran, not that you had much of a choice with him barrelling through people with you in tow. 

Both of you wove in between people, darting in and out of the narrow spaces between stalls until you reached a quiet side street. Seeing as how it was unlikely the man would’ve followed you to this point, you both ducked into an grungy alley to catch your breath.

“We should be safe here,”

“Saeran… What did you mean… By accomplices?” You panted. The thought of more of those men being nearby was terrifying.

“Guys like those don’t operate alone,” Saeran swallowed and wiped a bead of sweat from his temple. “They have one main man haul off girls, and then about three or four patrolling and scouting for the next girl, or ladies that escape on the first try,”

“How do you know all this?”

“They come in all the time asking me for aphrodisiacs and similar potions to knock people out. I refuse service and report them to the royal guards, but they still have yet to actually do something about it. My guess is that the guards are involved themselves,”

“That’s horrid,”

“Don’t trust royalty.  _ Ever. _ They’re all a bunch of rich scum, the worst the world has to offer,” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” 

“Well, on the bright side of things, the man trying to haul you off is another sign that the potion is having some effect on you. By the sound of things, that incident would’ve likely never happened had you not been taking Aphrodite’s Blessing,”

“I nearly got kidnapped and that’s what you’re concerned about?” Your blood began to boil. You’d just witnessed one of the most dire events in your entire life and Saeran was looking at the positives of his potion? “I’m not going to continue taking this stupid thing if this is what it causes… I should’ve known better than to believe something like this would work,”

“Hey, calm down.” Saeran gripped both of your shoulders, bringing you back to the present and out of you worried myriad of thoughts. “That’s how attraction and love work sometimes. It’s not always reciprocated, and it’s not always bubblegum and fluffy clouds. Sometimes it’s chains and dark cellars. It’s feeling like you’ve been stabbed a thousand times, and feeling like you’ve reached euphoria all at the same time.” You stared at him square in the eye, listening reluctantly to his every word. What he had to say was crushing, but it’s not as if you’d ever known romantic love before. Being a newly hatched chick, you had a lot to learn. “The fact that this happened is unfortunate, but thanks to it, we got some good information about how the potion is affecting you and others. It’ll be extremely useful for my research, and I can perfect this thing and get you the help you need,” He took a step back, noticing how you’d begun to squirm slightly under his touch.

“I thought this thing was supposed to attract love into my life, not get me trafficked,” You dangled the crystal bottle before his eyes, stirring up the contents. Bits of rose petals and ashes of violets danced around each other within the glass.

“It’ll do both. You can’t have one without the other, and I can’t give you another potion to take alongside this one until I’ve got all the information about it. I don’t know how this one would react to another. Besides, I saved you in end didn’t I?”

“I suppose so… Thank you, by the way. I wasn’t able to overpower him physically,”

“Don’t mention it, I wasn’t about to let my precious test subject mysteriously disappear,” Saeran sighed before running a hand through the tufts of fluffy hair, causing them to stick out in odd angles. “I doubt I could find another person to test out Aphrodite’s Blessing for me, so I’d be at a loss without you,” You sunk down to the ground, looking up at the sky. You were thankful to be here right now, even if it was dreary and bleak, and not tied up on a ship.

“What were you going to do if that man had caught up to us?”

“Oh, I know a little bit of destruction magic. I just prefer not to use it in areas where I could injure other people. I’m not trained very well, so I could easily torch a few innocents without meaning to,”

“Really? I didn’t know that,”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” You looked at him quizzically, hoping for him to elaborate a little, but he only gave you a smile. It was eerie, almost as if he was hiding something from you. There was something to uncover about him, some secret truth perhaps. 

“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. Perhaps I can continue learning more things about you in the future,” You didn’t want to acknowledge your strange dream from before, but the words were in the back of you mind, pricking at the trust you wished to place in Saeran. 

“ _ Me. You. The apothecaries. We’re all connected, you’ll see.” _

Just what connection was there? Surely that dream was nothing, just a figment of your imagination that you were allowing to have far too much control over your emotions.

“Yeah… Same goes for you,” You smiled to yourself, butterflies’ fluttering wings suddenly tickling your insides. It felt silly, but this was a warmth you’d never known before.

“Are you still up to do more tests after that incident? I can keep them within the confines of the shop if you’d prefer for awhile.” 

“As long as it’s indoors, yes, we can continue. Though I don’t know how much information you can gather without social interaction…”

“It’s fine. Besides, I count as social interaction too. I don’t always just lurk in a corner taking notes,”

“Thank you...For your consideration I mean,” 

“No no, thank you for still agreeing to this after today. Here, I’ll walk you home, just to make sure you’re safe,” You walked adjacent to him, ready to break into a sprint at any moment. You were certain the man was gone, but you still felt on edge. Saeran’s presence was comforting nevertheless. Even though he was obviously not the person with the most bulk on the streets, it was nice to know that his minor knowledge of destruction magic could protect the two of you if it was necessary. 

“Aren’t your hands cold? You haven’t been wearing gloves all day,” Saeran inquired. 

“A little, why? Are you going to give me yours on top of your scarf too?” You let out a chuckle. “At this rate I’ll have your whole wardrobe,”

“Nope, I can’t risk freezing my own. I kinda need these to do my work. Here, give me your hands,” You held out your reddened palms, fingertips raw from the brisk air. Saeran took out a small vial from inside his jacket. 

“This here… Is my special heating dust,” He bagan to sprinkle the maroon and russet flakes on your skin, and you could feel your skin thawing at the touch.

“Saeran…” He grinned at you, his stupid smile trying to hide the truth. “These are just chili flakes,”

“Your point?”

“It’s not some  _ special heating dust _ if it’s just a common household spice!”

“The practice of potion crafting begins in the kitchen,”

“Are you a chef or an apothecary?”

“Perhaps I’m both,”

“Considering how thin you are, I’m betting you’re not a chef,”

“Harsh, maybe I should just leave now if you’re going to be so rude to a man who’s trying to help,”

“Don’t you dare leave me to walk home alone after today,” 

“Ahaha, alright alright. Calm down, we’re going.”


End file.
